


Cardioid

by Whisper132



Series: The Parabola Continuum [12]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-03
Updated: 2009-06-03
Packaged: 2017-10-23 14:46:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whisper132/pseuds/Whisper132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Gin sustains an injury (kind of) and Osamu helps out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cardioid

"This isn't a tennis injury," Osamu said, observing Gin's head.

"No." Gin had been avoiding eye contact all evening.

When Osamu came home from work, Gin was in the kitchen making something that smelled wonderful. He was also wearing one of Osamu's hats and, while Osamu had entertained a few special thoughts about the scenario, he also knew that Gin thought wearing a hat was the scalp equivalent of shoving a pillow into someone's face and asking them to run a mile. He only believed it because Chitose fed him some crap about chi flow. Chitose claimed to have books to support his crazy theories, but Osamu was sure it was just a cry for attention. Why else would the kid wear those freakish shirts?

"Osamu? Were you listening?"

At Gin's call, Osamu's wandering mind veered back toward the present. "Hand off my ass."

"It's been there for three minutes." Gin didn't move the hand.

"Consider it an early birthday present. Now move it." Osamu smacked the hand away, even though he really, really didn't mind it where it was. "Now why the hell do you have splinters in your head?"

"It was an accident," Gin said.

"Be pretty lame if it was on purpose. And I _said_ to move your damn hand."

Gin complied, though his fingers trailed as he withdrew. "I came early to get dinner started and bumped my head on the upstairs balcony."

"You what?"

"The laundry pole wasn't secure. I wanted to reinforce the drywall before the sheets needed to be washed again." Gin held up a set of tweezers. "I tried to get it myself but I can't see."

Osamu did not laugh. He really, really wanted to but Gin, despite his efforts to distract Osamu with groping, seemed pretty upset about the whole ordeal so Osamu held back the chuckles and tried to figure out the easiest way to remove the splinters. "Just, uh, sit back on the couch a bit more," he said, pushing at Gin's shoulders.

Gin grinned. "Sure."

"I can leave the damn things where they are and let your head rot off."

The kid sobered up and stopped licking his lips. He probably wasn't even aware he was doing the latter. Stupid kids and their stupid hormones.

"My head hurts," Gin said.

"Stop getting splinters in your head and it'll stop hurting," Osamu snipped back. "Now hold still." After taking a breath to steady himself, Osamu climbed onto the couch on his knees, straddling Gin's lap. It wasn't the best scenario in the world, but it was the only way he was going to get at Gin's head without compromising overhead lighting. "Touch my ass and I stab you in the head," he said before starting in on the first splinter.

It took half an hour to get all the splinters out and, at the end of it all, Gin's head was red and puffy.

"Finished," Osamu sighed, stretching his neck and closing his focus-weary eyes. "Do me a favor and call the landlord the next time there's a problem with the drywall. I pay a maintenance fee every month for a reason."

Gin didn't respond.

"You okay?" Osamu asked, opening his right eye just enough to make sure Gin hadn't passed out.

"Yeah," Gin said. "I'm fine."

In hindsight, getting off Gin's lap immediately after he was done would have been the smart move. Instead, Osamu found himself being pressed forward by Gin's hands at the small of his back. "Gin," he warned.

"It's above the waist," Gin said, drawing Osamu in until they were pressed together. "I'm not doing anything wrong."

While it was technically true, Osamu didn't believe Gin was obeying the spirit of the rule. The rule's goal was to keep Osamu out of prison and out of concrete boots. Somehow, being above-waist groped while nearly sitting on Gin didn't gel with Osamu's anti-prison plan.

Osamu would have voiced his concerns, possibly ordered Gin to stop, but his mouth became otherwise occupied.

  
*****

  
Had Gin known that all he needed to do to get Osamu to willingly sit in his lap was a few splinters, he would have rubbed a chunk of wood on his head a long time ago. As things were, he could die happy at any time.

"This is a bad idea," Osamu said as soon as Gin pulled back a little in preparation to attack Osamu's scruffy yet adorable neck.

Gin shifted his hands and pulled Osamu closer. "Shhh. It's fine." He wasn't going to put any marks, even though he really, really wanted to - chiefly because Chitose said he didn't have the guts to do it.

Osamu pushed back. "No….bad idea…" Osamu's words came between shaky breaths. When he was breathing like that it meant it wouldn't take too much to get him to forget the rules.

"Second year's almost over."

"Second year…high school…pri-"

Gin cut Osamu off before he could finish saying the P-word. Even with Osamu in his lap, half Osamu's shirt off, and Gin's hands happily scooting their way down the back of Osamu's pants, Gin's mood would fizzle and die at the mention of the P-word.

  
*****

  
Osamu wasn’t sure whether he wanted to hug the delivery man or punch him in the face.

"He'll come back," Gin said, using Osamu's shirt to tug him back down. "We're not done."

"Oh, we're done." Osamu pulled himself free and hopped about until his pants were no longer out of position. "Besides, this is stuff I need for work." He hustled to the door for his package. Hopefully, when he got back, Gin would have his shirt on and Osamu would be able to pretend he didn't just leave a giant bite mark on Gin's shoulder.

Prison. Definitely prison.

Package in hand, Osamu returned to the couch, where Gin still was without shirt.

"What'd you buy?" Gin asked, rubbing at the red spot on his neck like he was petting the family cat.

"Some books on camping. They're making me go with the first years on their school trip." Osamu shivered. Two nights in a rundown cabin with teenagers did not sound like fun.

Gin continued to pet his neck. "Be careful of bugs," he said. "They bite." Gin's fingers paused. "Everyone's going to see this at practice tomorrow."

"Put a Band-Aid on it."

"Don't wanna."

"Then why the hell are you complaining?"

Gin grabbed Osamu's hand and brought him closer. Osamu didn't resist because he'd already fallen off the decency boat for the evening and getting back on was always difficult, especially when he hadn't had his cigarette for the day.

"I'm not complaining," Gin said. "I'm just observing."

Their lips met lightly and Osamu realized that he was painfully tired.

Gin laughed against the corner of Osamu's yawning mouth. "Let's eat before dinner gets cold. Wash up and I'll set the table."

"Perfect." As he stretched up and away, Osamu brushed a kiss across Gin's head. "To make it better," he said when Gin gave him a look. Walking toward the sink to freshen up, Osamu had to admit that it had been a damn good evening, splinters and all.


End file.
